Heart of Fire
by Thasiloron
Summary: On a visit to Radiant Garden, Kairi encounters a Red Priestess of the Lord of Light: "The red star bleeds. The Corridors of Light have been opened. Azhor Ahai is come again to awaken dragons from stone, and the darkness shall flee before him."
1. Kairi I

**Chapter I: A Light in the Depths**

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><p><em>"I know now, without a doubt, Kingdom Hearts, is light!"<br>_**_~ Sora, Kingdom Hearts_**

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><p><em>The Marketplace<br>Radiant Garden_

"This place _does_ look pretty radiant," Kairi said conversationally from her seat by the portcullis, glancing out at the town below, pushing aside her garnet locks to get a better view.

"Well, it is _your_ birthplace," Sora said at the wheel, "It'd _have_ to be, don't you think?"

"Ah, _smooth,"_ muttered Riku snarkily nearby, for which he received a loud raspberry from the other two (in a vain effort to distract from their violent blushing). He only shook his ivory head in response as they began their descent into a bare alleyway. Of course, the two _would_ deflect the issue. Perhaps they were both afraid of rejection, or maybe they were just lazy and couldn't be bothered to advance their relationship. In any case, it seemed Riku was to remain a third wheel to a pair that didn't even know how connected they were.

The trio landed in Radiant Garden just as the sun was beginning to set on that part of the world, turning the sky a brilliant crimson, and painting the city a cascade of warm colors. Once the Gummi ship landed, Sora cried spontaneously, _"Race ya!"_ and, instantly jettisoning himself from his seat, made a break for the door, joyously connecting with the cobbled streets below. Riku, shrugging, followed diligently, and Kairi immediately after. They rushed past a now-sleepy marketplace, vendors just beginning to close up for the night and straggling customers accompanied by children, down a flight of stairs towards a residential block and, skidding before a particular wooden door, knocked furiously.

The other two arrived at his heels at the stone building. Panting, Riku accused, "You only won because you knew where you were going!"

"That sounds like a challenge, Riku! I'll be happy to trounce you later, but first..." the door opened just as Sora finished his boasting, and he instantly crossed the threshold, immediately making himself at home. A quick glance inside showed that whoever owned the place had very conflicting interests: while there was a giant computer hugging the wall directly across from the entrance, there were also haphazardly assembled stacks of books surrounding a raised table bearing a tea set-

Sora instantly found himself embraced by a young woman of a similar height, with dark brown eyes wearing a black halter-top beneath an unzipped grey sleeveless vest, as well as short beige pants and high white combat boots. Beneath the young woman's short black bangs, a sable headband had been wound about her head, with two long tails swaying with her movements. "Sora! You're back! And – Kairi! It's been so long; man, you sure did get big!" Instantly, Kairi found herself the next victim of the girl's affection, though she was quick to explain, "Uh, in a good way, of course!"

Kairi smiled and returned the embrace after a moment's hesitation. It had been some time – about a year or two - since Kairi had spoken with the former citizens of Traverse Town, and yet their familiarity made it seem as if not even a day had passed by. Once released, a tall brunette approached her, long bangs partially obscuring a long facial scar, and wearing a black vest with fleece lining over a white shirt. Smiling slightly, he nodded and said, "Kairi. It's good to see you again."

"And you as well – Leon, right?" After receiving a grateful nod, she turned to the rest of the group inside.

By her side, Sora said, "Kairi, you remember a lot of the gang – that's Cloud, he's new –"Startled, Kairi noticed a mute figure that had been leaning against the adjacent wall: a young man about the others' height, dressed all in black (which oddly complimented his spiky blonde hair). A striking pair of sky-blue eyes regarded her calmly from beneath his prominent bangs, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Riku, I don't think you've met them?" With outstretched hand, Sora gestured to each of the Committee members, introducing them in turn, "There's Cid, by the computer-"

An older blonde (with considerably shorter hair) grunted from his seat at the supercomputer hugging the wall, clad in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. Only sparing Riku a quick glance before returning the majority of his attention to the monstrous monitor before him, toothpick seeming to dance in between his lips, he warned, "Don't touch anything important, and we'll be alright, kid."

The scarred brunette nodded succinctly and said only, "Name's Leon." Kairi snorted; those two were going to get along _just_ fine._ That just leaves..._

"Riku, was it?" The black-haired kunoichi now smiled eagerly and thrust her hand towards the Wielder of Twilight, and saying, "I am the Great Ninja Yuffie Kisaragi! Welcome to the Garden."

Riku smiled dazedly at the ninja and reciprocated the gesture, shaking her hand firmly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Cid warned, "Well, don't you get too quaint with her – you're liable to lose somethin'."

Yuffie immediately swung her gaze onto the technician, growling, "That was one time, Cid, and I have a perfectly good alibi-"

Leon cleared his throat. Though his lips were twitching, he said, "As memorable as that particular affair was, we should probably bring these three up to speed." Fixing Sora with his full attention, the man's brow furrowed and said, "You three weren't the first to come by here this week: a delegation arrived from some other world a few days ago."

"Really?" Sora blinked. "What for? Are they just visiting, or is it more serious?"

"Well, as nice as we've gotten the Garden to look lately, they weren't too interested in the sights. They explained their mission to us in brief – something about a military alliance - but we've been pretty busy lately with the defense systems; however, they're to attend an audience with the full Committee tomorrow."

Cid's toothpick shifted a bit, then he ground out, "Well, one thing I can tell you 'bout those folks: they didn't come here by Gummi."

Instantly, Riku was on high alert. "How do you think they got here, then? The Corridors?"

"Apparently it was by some other method." The mechanic shrugged, as if to say, _none of my business, none of my interest._ Tapping the computer keys nonchalantly, he continued, "I do know that Merlin's working on some new spell – somethin' about how these new folks got here. Never seen the old codger so giddy, but I guess when you get as good as him, learning any new party trick is like Christmas."

The Great Ninja Yuffie's dark eyes took on a dangerously mischievous glint. "Why, Cid! Did you just _compliment_ Merlin's magi-? "

The room practically shook at Cid's next outburst: whirling around on his (apparently squeaky) rotating chair, he fixed her with a mean look, and bellowed, _"YOU CAN'T PROVE SQUAT, KID, I DEBUGGED THIS PLACE _MONTHS _AGO!"_

Cloud grunted; apparently this was a common occurrence. "Guys, we have stuff to discuss. Go haggle somewhere else."

Yuffie pouted. "Come on, I didn't even get close to blackmailing him this time...!"

"Quit yer blubberin', it's not like you'd be interested in my type of blood munny anyway," Cid replied, hurriedly logging of whatever software he was tinkering with on the titanic monitor and then standing up, cracking his back as it turned black. "Let's leave these kids to catch up on old times." Huffing, he spat out his (much abused) toothpick onto the ground, Yuffie following him half-dejectedly.

_"And_ there they go again," muttered Leon. Poor guy. He turned an aggrieved gaze to Cloud. "You know they're just going to go cause trouble elsewhere."

"Just so long as they don't step on any flowers, they should be fine." Kairi blinked. Was... was that a trace of _fear_ in Cloud's voice, just then? Or was that just her?

Kairi turned her attention to Cloud. "This delegation you mentioned: do you know where they are now? I'd like to meet them, if possible."

The warrior quirked a brow questioningly, as if wondering why she'd take an interest in the comings and goings of political emissaries; then he jerked his head south and said ominously, "They've gone down to the Dark Depths."

Sora's eyes widened considerably and unbeknownst to all but Kairi (and Cloud), his fists clenched fiercely at his side. "But... that's where we last fought Sephiroth. What could they possibly want there?"

Cloud shrugged nonchalantly. "Beats me. I only know that they've gone there every night since they've arrived. They like to make fires in some brazier they set up there – sort of a religious requirement. Attended their little meetings a few times, just to get a grasp of them, but..." here, Cloud looked a tad uncomfortable before continuing, "Fires have always hurt my eyes, to be honest..."

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><p><em>The Dark Depths<em>  
><em>Radiant Garden<em>

_"...srio syt bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys!"_

To be honest, Kairi wasn't quite sure how they had arrived to the decision to search for zealous extraterrestrials in the dead of night (it seemed Sora's tendency to seek out excitement was a remnant of his latest adventure), meandering through great trenches and rugged caverns embedded with crystals. As they drew nearer to their goal, an exotic voice sounded above the high winds, in three tongues: one harsh and shrill, the other distant and powerful. The last, however, was understood quite clearly by the three: _"Heart of Fire, purchase for us another dawn for the world! Yours are the stars that guide us!"_

"Hey, look!" Sora cried abruptly, startling Kairi out of her reverie (the kind that you don't know you're in until you're startled out of it), pointing eagerly to the clearing before them. "There's a light up ahead!"

A blaze pierced through the black night, casting long, terrible shadows onto the canyon walls, bending and molding into the cracks and crevices of the rock itself. The light itself flickered, waxing and waning in intensity, as did the hominid shadows. Following the shadows' path, Kairi found that they terminated near the very edge of the Dark Depths, pooling beneath the bases of a number of six-foot poles. From these, bright banners rippled through the windy night: emblazoned by a sable crowned stag enclosed within a red heart surrounded by a blaze of orange fire on a field of gold (but there were lesser standards as well: given secondary status was a red-gold fox encircled by lapis lazuli flowers on a field of ermine spots). In the midst of these standards were about half a dozen people, mostly middle-aged men, clad in armor or cloth-of-gold and gazing up into the cloudy night.

Erected in the center of the congregation was an intricate brazier, carved out of solid obsidian, the dark glass gleaming sharply in the light of the fire burning within its orifice. Standing before the blaze was a woman. She was certainly beautiful; hair the color of burnished copper (disturbingly similar to her own) was complemented by a long crimson gown of a silky material. Puberty had been very kind to the lady, bestowing upon her a tall height, full breasts and a narrow waist (which probably helped her draw a crowd, in retrospect), her arms spread widely in benediction as if to embrace the coming dawn (which, by Kairi's reckoning, was about seven hours away or so).

In the center of the grand crater below them was the Villain's Vale: a tall, narrow fortress looming above a ruined stone village perched precariously on a hill. Its golden-brown towers were crooked and spindly, appearing every bit as the limbs of a dead tree blowing in the night (and that description wasn't far off). Completing the ominous visage was the outer façade: affixed onto the central tower was a giant Heartless emblem; a black heart crossed by blood-red thorns.

"The Lord of Light made the sun and moon and stars to light our way, and gave us fire to keep the night at bay," the red woman chanted, and Kairi absentmindedly admired her alliterative skills. "Lord, _cast your light upon us!"_

"Lord, cast your light upon us," the men behind her echoed.

"So, should we just… pop in there? Say hi?" whispered Sora to the others conspiratorially as they crouched (ineffectively) amongst a small outcropping of rocks. She was a tad aware of his warm breath at her nape, and was very thankful that they had yet to pierce the illuminated sermon, lest her blush be made evident.

Still, she shrugged it off. "It looks kind of solemn, Sora. I don't think they'd apprec-"

"We have guests." It was then that the trio noticed that the red woman had halted in her promulgations, lowering her hands and turning serenely to face the trio still lingering at the periphery of the congregation. "Come, it is rather chilly out. Warm yourselves by the fire." As the three reluctantly made their way to through the throng towards the brazier, the woman's features came more into focus. Her heart-shaped face was pale, scarlet eyes still blazing with intensity. Fit snugly about her neck was a red-gold choker, with a polished ruby setting, which even now seemed to glow in the light. She smiled at Kairi specifically and asked, "Now. To whom do I have the honor of addressing this dark night?"

"I am Kairi, and these are my friends, Riku and Sora, of Destiny Islands," she answered promptly. "Leon and the Committee told us there might be others out here tonight. "

As she mentioned all three names, the red woman's eyes up glinted (even more so) in mild recognition. Nodding, she explained, "Ah, yes. The Wielders of the Keyblade. You have built up quite the reputation here, or so I am told."

Right on cue, Sora grinned and folded his arms behind his head, root foot "bashfully" hooking behind his left calf, and drawled, "Yeah, well, we try to help out. It tends to work out, more or less."

"If you don't mind us asking;" interjected Riku, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, "Who are you, and what's with the bonfire?"

The red woman levelly met Riku's inquisitive gaze with her own. "I am Melisandre of Asshai. As for the flame..." Eyes darting momentarily to the brazier, she explained, "It is a core ritual for us followers of the Red Faith: asking the Almighty to return the dawn. And He answers, for He is the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire: R'hllor the Radiant."

_"The Radiant." Is there any significance in that title?_

"Alright," continued the Keyblade Master, "Then how did you get here? Apparently, it wasn't by Gummi ship..."

_"Riku!"_ Swatting the older teen upside the head, Kairi smiled apologetically to Melisandre. "I'm sorry if it seems like we're interrogating you – it's just that travel between the worlds isn't a common ability."

The priestess laughed. "It's fine – your Committee expressed similar concerns. I understand that the usual route is via Dark Corridors?" She sniffed derogatively. "I would sooner perish than lead my flock into such peril. Another path presented itself, a gift from on high. After some deliberation with the Committee, we have counter-engineered the spell behind our arrival: the Corridors of Light have been awakened. It took some coaxing, but I believe travel between this world and our own will be much more reliable from here on out."

"Hold it. Corridors of _Light?"_ Riku pointed at her accusingly and asserted (not a little childishly), "You made that up!"

"Your Committee raised similar concerns. It appears that the Corridors of Light are a recent phenomenon." Passionately, Melisandre explained, "This coincides with a great many omens witnessed on our own world, in the Realm Between."

Kairi frowned. "Why have you come to visit Radiant Garden? This is a totally foreign world to you; I don't think this is just a pleasure trip."

Melisandre smiled. "It was said in the East that the Garden was a great kingdom within the Realm of Light. Yet our own world is perilously close to the Darkness, and has recently been thrown into turmoil. I am sent forth as a herald and ambassador of His Grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Son of Fire and Warrior of Light."

_"Wait,"_ asked Sora, already rubbing his temple in confusion (Kairi couldn't blame him, really: it was a pretty absurd list of titles). "King of the _what_ now?"

"I already got it written down for you Sora, don't worry," piped up Jiminy from... _somewhere_, deep in Sora's unruly mane (if Melisandre or her followers were surprised at the notion of an anthropomorphic cricket absconding about in a top hat scribbling down royal modes of address whilst perched upon the noggin of the twice-acclaimed Hero of the Worlds, they didn't show it). "He must be pretty important, with so many positions."

"He's the Lord's Chosen. Born amidst salt and smoke."

_That... doesn't really help any._ "You spoke of omens. Why did he send you, exactly?"

The visitor's voice took on a menacing tone. "The red star bleeds. Creatures of darkness have come south of the Wall. Winter is coming. After the long summer, darkness will fall heavy on all worlds. The cold breath of winter will freeze the seas... and the dead shall rise in the North."

Sora frowned. "That... doesn't sound good. And where is your King Stannis? What's he like?"

"If I may - my lady..." A tall, thin man stepped forth from the congregation, appearing almost from nowhere, who for a split second Kairi mistook for Ansem the Wise (if Kairi had to choose a word to describe the man before them, she would use "formal"). This, however, was an older gentleman, just at the cusp of senescence: his hair, only beginning to thin, was lustrous silver. His long, distinguished features seemed to lead to a beard shaped like a spike, the path interrupted jarringly by rather prominent, jutting ears. Clad in a dull and age-worn metal chestplate beneath a luminous cloth-of-gold tunic, he also wore a long ermine cloak pinned at his neck by a golden broach, wrought in the shape of a hand grasping a chakram, with a blade extending from between the index and middle finger. All in all, he made a very stately appearance and Kairi though that he, surely, must be the leader of this mission. However, the fact that they had only just now noticed him, combined with his addressing Melisandre so suppliantly, revealed his status as follower, just like all the others. Still, he raised his head and declared proudly, "I am Alester Florent of the Reach, Lord of Brightwater Keep and Hand of the King."

Riku's eyes lit up in thought. "So, you're like a Lord President of a Council or something? His, ah, second in command?" At the man's mildly impressed nod, the silver teen looked at his two friends, who were giving him strange looks. Perturbed, he said defensively, "Look, I'm no math wiz, but is it so strange I get political science?" Riku returned his attention to Lord Alester and asked, "You'd obviously know a lot about your king. Can you tell us about him?"

The old man smiled. "I do know much of him – being his brother-in-law helps. From our many years of acquaintance, I can tell you that if His Grace had an epithet, he would be known as 'King Stannis the Dutiful.' He is not a frivolous man – unlike his late brothers, King Robert and Lord Renly, R'hllor rest their poor, foolish souls. His Grace reserves most of his thought to fulfilling his obligations to the Realm; doesn't give mind to much else, really."

Melisandre put forth, "A usurper now sits the Iron Throne, disgracing the halls of the Conqueror with all manners of perversions and abuse. King Stannis has sallied forth to come properly into his crown – yet he neglected to appeal to R'hllor for aid." Her mouth twisted, and she claimed bitterly, "I should have gone with him. Alas, His Grace holds the ear of unsavory advisors, and so we have come here to plea his case – and the Realm's - before your Restoration Committee. Only by presenting a united front against the darkness can the Realm of Light hope to keep the Long Night at bay." She glanced back at her brazier. "My rites, of course, continue, no matter what world I tread."

"That honestly seems like something Lea would be pretty into," mused Sora, half-jokingly.

The mention of the former Nobody roused yet another amused smile on the priestess' face, and reflected in her scarlet eyes, still transfixed upon her brazier, one could see both dancing flames and shadows. "R'hllor is always willing to accept new followers, Wielder. His Heart burns endlessly for our embrace."

"Ah, sounds interesting," said Kairi hurriedly, as Riku was just beginning to raise his finger, smirking (no doubt about to make a heartburn joke). "Well, it was a nice meeting you, Lord Alester. Lady Melisandre. I wish you luck with the Committee tomorrow."

"The pleasure is ours, Lady Kairi – and your companions as well." Turning again to meet their gazes, Melisandre's eye lingered distrustfully upon Riku for a moment (prompting him to mimic her action), before she turned back to Kairi. "We will meet again. Go now, and may R'hllor illuminate the path ahead: for the night is dark, and full of terrors."

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><p><em>Kesrio syt bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys<em>: (Old Valyrian) - "For the night is dark, and full of terrors."

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><p><em>All that jabbering about Light and Darkness: I'm honestly surprised at the lack of crossovers.<em>

_This drabble required a lot of tweaking: so far, it is set after Dream Drop Distance, and just before Stannis' fleet set sail for Blackwater Bay in "A Clash of Kings": probably just after his conquest of Storm's End. (It's probably unlikely that I'll have the trio visit Westeros itself, given protagonists' uncomfortably high mortality rate there.)_

_PS. Will Stannis appear? Well, just imagine: Cloud, Leon, and Stannis? On the same world? I don't think Radiant Garden can contain that much grumpiness._


	2. Riku I

**Chapter II: The Hand Speaks**

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><p><em>Royal Library, Royal Citadel<br>__Radiant __Garden_

"Remind me _again_ why we're in the library?"

Looking about at the towering bookshelves, Riku sort of felt rather dwarfed. Honestly, though Hollow Bastian had been the first world he had visited, Riku had never paid much attention to the scenery - his thoughts during those early years had been consumed with his quest to find and save Kairi, or escalating his childhood rivalry with Sora. He had never really stopped the appreciate the beauty, or even the sheer _size_ of Radiant Garden's famed Citadel - it seemed as if it had been crafted in some bygone era, representing a golden age now totally out of reach. "I mean, granted, any day where Sora willingly walks into one of these things is a cause for celebration, but-"

"We're _looking_ for stuff on this _R'hllor_ character," Sora said determinedly, practically power-walking across the threshold of a section of the library. "Ansem the Wise did a lot of studies into the heart - if this god really is called the 'Heart of Fire', I think Ansem would have at least looked into it!"

"Load of good those studies did him... I don't think they'll even have anything here, Sora," Kairi said tepidly, "Isn't Westeros a rather secluded place?"

"You know, from my experience, secluded places are secluded _for a reason."_ Riku supposed that they could have asked the priestess about R'hllor, but he guessed Sora was looked for an "unbiased" source.

Speaking of which, another voice approached the trio a few shelves back; from afar, they heard the strangely-lilted accent of the red priestess of Asshai: "...oddest literary establishment I have ever come across: it seems that every time I remove a book from its place, the entire shelf moves somehow. Perhaps I am simply overwhelmed by the number of tomes here..."

The feminine voice was answered by a loud chortle, and Sora's eyes dilated, as he recognized that particular laugh many a time as he trained in spellwork at Traverse Town. He held out his hand in front of Riku and Kairi, silently urging them back behind the bookshelf. Eventually, the owners of the two voices strolled into view: the red priestess from the previous night, Melisandre, and an older man, with a lankier figure in voluminous blue robes. Atop the man's crooked nose were a pair of full spectacles, from which sparkled sky blue eyes. His long white beard nearly reached his knees, and atop his head was a tall, pointed blue cap. In his gnarled right hand was a long ash wand, which poked and prodded the offending bookcase. "Ah yes, some enchanter must have been bored one day and decided to start messing with the Dewey decimal system. Still, it does make research a bit more exciting, don't you think?" Still chortling, they continued. Riku had to admit, they made an odd pairing – the young, vivid priestess, scarlet gown practically searing at the old wizard's sky-blue robe and cap. "Now, to return to the subject matter. It is a well-known fact, madam, that journey via the Corridors of Darkness comes at great risk to the participants in question. Tests have shown that prolonged exposure to the Realm of Darkness through such transit opens the subjects' hearts to adverse degrees of corruption -"

"Such is the power of the Great Other," agreed Melisandre (cryptically as always), fingering the ruby at her throat. "However, do you honestly believe that if Dark Corridors have the power to corrupt, then perhaps transit through the Corridors of Light can then purify?"

"It is quite possible, madam, but testing is the only way to be sure!" The old man's head bobbed along eagerly as he considered the possibilities, tapping his wand energetically into the palm of his hand. With his train of thought obviously speeding along at miles per second, he speculated, "Though that would contradict _your_ earlier hypothesis: your comparison of Darkness to onion rot is not one I had ever considered, to be perfectly honest - I'm more partial to leeks, myself-"

"As you explained earlier, in order to utilize the Corridors of Darkness, one must willingly immerse themselves in the Darkness. The opposite holds true for the Corridors of Light. Immersion in the Red Faith wi-" Melisandre stopped mid-speech, and, to the trio's befuddlement (as Goofy would surely have described their reaction), the great ruby clasped to her throat flashed bright red, almost as if it were emitting light - which was gone in an instant. The priestess stopped and sniffed the air, perturbed, then shifted her gaze towards their general direction, before honing in on the one at the front of their merry band: Riku. Blinking, she turned slowly to her escort and said, "If you may grant us a moment, ser."

"Oh, certainly madam! And if you have any further desire to collaborate, please do not hesitate to ask! You know right where to find me!" Doffing his cap politely, revealing a slightly balding head, the old man nodded politely at the red woman and turned to the three newcomers. "Sora my lad, good to see you again! I hope you've been practicing your spellwork. And as for your acquaintances..." He bowed deeply to the three and then donned his cap once again, saying, "You must be Master Riku and Prin- uh, that is to say, Kairi." He huffed at his near slip-up and his gaze darted back at Melisandre worriedly - who was still (annoyingly) staring at Riku.

Riku frowned - not only at the red woman's muffling scrutiny, but at the magician as well. Perhaps being manipulated and possessed by the eldritch forces of Darkness had made him paranoid, but something was not quite right about the present situation._ Is discussing Kairi's status as a Princess of Heart off-topic - and if so, why? I mean, it's not like this lady is trying to obtain Kingdom Hearts or something, is it?_ Inwardly, he scoffed, though he had to admit to himself he was a tad unsettled by the idea.

It seemed he would have to keep his suspicions to himself, at least for the moment: Sora simply beamed at the Magician and said, "Good to see you too! Guys, this is Merlin the Magician - he taught me practically everything I know about magic! Just, uh, just don't tell Donald I said that."

Kairi giggled at him. "It's our pleasure, sir - I hope you're still in the teaching mood after having to deal with this bum!"

_"HEY-!"_

"Certainly, my dear, certainly! Well, I suppose I must be off, shouldn't I? Committee papers to fill out, research to round up, you know." Merlin bowed to them all once again and, winking mischievously at the Wielders of the Keyblade, disappeared in his characteristic puff of sparkling blue smoke (which did, in fact, smell faintly of leeks).

With Merlin departed, Melisandre turned her full attention towards the approaching youths. The priestess' expression, once exuding a serene warmth, returned to its initial neutral expression the three were more familiar with from the previous night. Taking them in, she tilted her head up the library's staircase and asked, "I assume you also go to attend Lord Alester's audience with the Committee?"

"Hmm. Isn't it _your_ audience?" asked Riku pointedly, folding his arms defensively.

She laughed in response, though she did not sound all too humored by the comment. "Lord Alester serves as His Grace's _official_ representative in all matters, both domestic _and_ diplomatic. I, however, humbly represent only the Lord of Light." Turning away from them, she began to stroll ever further towards the Citadel, maintaining a leisurely pace so that her fellow off-worlders could follow - though her still rather long stride belied the fact that, if anyone was Stannis' Hand, it would naturally be her, and not Lord Alester. "You interrupted a rather interesting conversation about the Corridors of Light, but I suppose extrapolation on that subject will have to wait. Politics knows no master, it seems."

Confrontation was the name of the game that day, apparently. Riku said, "Alright, humor us. And what, exactly, does representing the Lord of Light entail?"

"We attend to the rites passed down to us through the generations, in order to prepare our world for the second coming of Azhor Ahai. In anticipation of this grand event, we seek also to illuminate the Darkness..." Here she shot Riku an intense look that none of the others could easily ignore. "_Whatever_ form it takes."

He instantly rose to the bait. Teeth gritting, Riku replied, "If you have something to say, my _lady,_ say it."

"Why, don't mind if I do." Eyes alighting with piety (and just a dash of mischievousness), the red woman pointed directly at Riku and cried, _"You have immersed yourself in the Darkness,_ allowing it to cloud your heart, now _black_ and _cold_ and full of _worms!_ From thence it takes root, as a noxious cancer. It may warded off for a time, and you may reckon yourself a truly reformed, but eventually it returns to the surface, and ultimately devours the host. To you, I say: _repent!"_

"Hey, _watch_ it!" Sora lashed out - and for a split second, Riku wondered where the librarian was in the middle of all this noise. "You're talking to a Keyblade Master, _lady_!"

"Ah yes, I had forgotten - perhaps your instructor _erred,_ then." Ignoring the indignation of the other two, Melisandre smiled beatifically at Riku, opened her arms to him and said, "His Grace the King has a saying he is rather fond of: a good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad the good. But you need not fret, child. You may yet find salvation with the Lord of Light. Where you once served the Other, I can see that your future path lies beneath the warm gaze of R'hllor the Radiant. The deep mysteries of the Light await those who truly seek it."

Riku sighed - as nice as it was to hear Sora defending him, it really wasn't necessary. He himself had gone through Melisandre's thought process not one year ago, continuously beating himself upside the head with his own failures. Eventually, he had come to the realization that dwelling on the past would only restrict him from moving past it. Still, the path the red woman was offering did not appeal to him. _So, I ditched the dark witch, and I now get shackled with a _light_ witch instead. Their names even begin with the same damned _letter!_ Am I destined to just be the universe's _bitch? _And... and what was with that bit about _worms? Intrapersonal monologue concluded, he simply huffed in response and muttered gruffly, "...No thanks. I chose the Road to Dawn a long time ago."

She seemed amused by that. "The Twilight is a _transitory_ state, my child. You must choose eventually between light and dark. There will come a time, _Master_ Riku, when we will all be bathed in the Light of the Lord, and thereby held to account for our deeds. Only the guilty tremble." The distant ringing of bells snapped her out of her sermon. "Ah, the meeting is about to begin. Let this be your first test, young Master." Behind the priestess, tongues of fire erupted from the ground, growing brighter with every flame, until it coalesced into a searing portal, shining red and orange and yellow: a Corridor of Light. "Follow, son of Darkness... if you dare."

* * *

><p><em>Great Hall, Royal Citadel<br>__Radiant __Garden_

"Rather fancy trick of yours, my lady," greeted a slightly nasal voice - _Leon._

The Corridor of Light had not negatively affected him (at the moment) - a bit warmer than the Dark Corridors, but no other side effects he could discern. Riku looked around. Two rows of seats for the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee had been arranged in a semicircle on the high terrace where Sora had fought the Seeker of Darkness - and sacrificed his heart for Kairi's. Chewing his lip thoughtfully, he noticed that it looked way more cheery than the last time he had been here - the Keyhole was shut, there were notably fewer (read: no) Heartless, and the awkward pipes installed by Ansem's Apprentices piercing the walls and floors had been removed, their scars even now still being repaired by expert masonry. Lining the Grand Hall were balconies from which the Garden's residents could observe the proceedings, and before the Committee's seating arrangement was a lone podium carved out of a purple stone incised with the Royal seal.

At that juncture, the back doors to the Grand Hall opened slowly, and two men in white lab coats strode through determinedly: one of them was an elder man with a mane of long, sandy hair and icy blue eyes, towering over the others in the hall and violently clutching a sheet of papers in his right hand; and the one following him was considerably younger, with long grey hair, with one of his front bangs flowing forward to cover his right eye, amusement dancing gaily in his visible left. Instinctively, Riku snarled and summoned Way to the Dawn, Keyblade slashing threateningly at the pair. _"You-!"_

"Ah, hello Riku. No time to chat, I'm afraid: we're about to go _politicking."_ The sandy-haired academic rolled his eyes. "I assure you, young Master of the Keyblade, I'd enjoy _nothing_ more than to _'catch up on old times'_ instead - but the affairs of the Realm wait for no task, not even the pursuit of science! Ugh, _what_ has this world come to..."

"Riku," warned Leon from the side, "settle down. I'm sure you already know this gang: Sora, Kairi, these two are Ienzo, formerly Zexion; and of course, Even, formerly Vexen, of Organization XIII." He frowned. "Aeleus and Dilan should be somewhere nearby..."

"We've already met, actually - but you can be forgiven if you can't recall, I'm not all _that_ memorable..." a snickering Even told Sora, who just raised an eyebrow bemusedly.

_No, I imagine he's not. _The Keyblade Master blinked and dismissed the Way to the Dawn after a few moments. Looking at Ienzo, he said very dryly, "Well... you smell better, at any rate. So," he turned to Leon and, ignoring the younger apprentice's deadpan look, asked incredulously, "you're just going to _let_ them into the Committee? _No_ questions asked?"

"Well, uh, we're actually on _probation,_ of course," Ienzo chimed in... helpfully? Folding his arms and stroking his chin thoughtfully, he looked at the trio and continued, "So we don't really have an actual _vote_ in the proceedings... but we're still allowed to observe-"

"And offer our most _insightful_ commentary," Even finished triumphantly - perhaps, Riku thought, even looking quite _giddy_ at the thought - and right before he could tell the scientist where exactly he thought he should shove his 'commentary', Even caught sight of the priestess still lingering next to Leon. Now looking a little less smug, and with a cold glint piercing his eye, he inclined his head politely and greeted, a tad reluctantly, "Ah hah... Lady Melisandre. I hope you and your followers are finding your stay... _hospitable_, so far."

_And so ice meets fire..._ Riku smirked to himself. _This ought to be fun._

"Well enough, _ser_," she responded, and Riku could tell she was _just_ as unenthused as Even was to see him. "I am thankful you haven't expended yourselves _too_ greatly on our account - the men are about to enter a war zone, after all." The priestess then looked at the younger Apprentice, Ienzo, just a tad more favorably, Riku noted. _Probably to do with his powers, I guess..?_ If he recalled correctly, Zexion's strength lay in illlusions - which were nothing more than tricks of the Light, after all. Still sizing the two up, Melisandre asked, "Now, what sort of commentary did the two of you have in _mind...?"_

The former Cloaked Schemer replied, "Little of the political nature. We Apprentices of Ansem the Wise made the study of the heart a priority of ours for a time, and as a result, gained a great deal of insight into the Darkness as well - at great personal cost, but..." Ienzo shrugged helplessly. "Sacrifices were made."

The lady did not look too impressed with that explanation, and probably would have launched into another sermon if they had not been on a strict timetable: the rest of the Restoration Committee (Merlin, Yuffie, Cid, and a young brunette woman with striking green eyes and pink ensemble - Riku assumed this was Aerith, from Sora's earlier description) filed in quietly from the back of the Grand Hall, whereas the great double doors at its head groaned open, allowing in the half-dozen lords led by the Hand of the King composing the Dragonstone Delegation, yellow and scarlet banners preceding them. Behind came an assortment of others: one the flower-encircled fox of the Florents, another a hippocampus - a horse with a coiling, fishlike hindquarter - on a sea green field, a third a lone crow on green...

Apparently the locals had rehearsed this: standing ominously before their respective chairs in the front row, the Restoration Committee simultaneously stepped backwards and took their seats dramatically. Sora, remembering that he was still an honorary member, hurriedly dragged his companions to the back row. Riku asked tepidly, "Uh, Sora - you sure we're allowed ba-"

"It'll be fine, Riku, pipe down! They're about to start, and I am _not_ going all the way up into those balconies!"

Leon, in the center, initiated the meeting by saying, "Let us begin. The Committee Chair recognizes Alester of House Florent, Lord of Brightwater Keep, Lord Para..." Blinking, Leon surreptitiously shoved back at his sleeve and dropped his gaze (probably looking at a notecard), then glanced back up and continued, _"Lord Paramount _of the Mander, Warden of the South, and Hand of the King."

The elder noble swept up to the podium as if he were born to it (_looking extremely pleased at the extra titles added to his name_), flaring ear tips and all, ermine cloak pooling theatrically behind him. Having discarded his ancient attire from the night before, Lord Alester was now clad in red-gold armor (no doubt indicative of the Red Faith) inlaid with lapis flowers on his breastplate: he certainly cut a striking figure. "Honored representatives of Radiant Garden. As Hand of the King, I am, among other duties, granted the authority to speak on behalf of His Grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, etc., in the event of his absence." There, Lord Florent paused, and tugged thoughtfully at his pointed beard. "It is thus said that the Hand should speak with the King's voice: he sends his heartfelt greetings, and regrets that circumstances prevent him treating with you all in person. Nevertheless, his - nay, _our_ - need is most dire. He could think of few others that could aid Westeros in its current and future plight."

"These... _circumstances,_ you mentioned previously," drawled Even. "You lead us to believe that your Realm is undergoing a succession crisis-"

Lord Alester nodded. "The War of Five Kings; though only one of them be true. The King's errant brother, Lord Renly, has already met justice, and His Grace now stands at the threshold of King's Landing. Soon, he shall displace the usurper Joffrey and sit his rightful place on the Iron Throne; but there is an entire Realm to bring to heel." The Southerner's beard-stroking proceeded in earnest. "The Westerlands and the Riverlands are in full revolt, and the Ironborn have swept across the North as a rising tide. It would be of great benefit to the Realm of Light if this squabble were brought to a swift and decisive end. Night is falling swiftly, and the famed fury of the House Baratheon, mighty as it is, cannot hold it back for long."

"You make a compelling case. Still... ah, what's our _official_ stance..?" Leon frowned_. "'It is the standard policy of this Committee to adhere to the Balance of Separation, ensuring the secu-'"_

That prompted a loud snort from Yuffie, on the outskirts of the semicircle. "That was first enacted by Star Command, wasn't it? I mean, yeah, a second Keyblade War could always pop up... but, if you haven't noticed, Star Command is _beyond_ useless at this stage, anyway."

The room become a little more tense at that: the tales of the Keyblade War that had occurred when the World was whole were greatly steeped in legend, passing ever more into myth as the years had cycled, the separation between worlds becoming ever more pronounced. As far as Riku was aware, the interplanetary organization of Star Command - formed supposedly after the near apocalypse brought about by the Keyblades - had sought to keep that particular catastrophe from repeating itself, by keeping the worlds and their Wielders mostly ignorant of the existence of others'. Their effectiveness was... _mostly_ solid?

"How effectively have their mandates been enforced, again?" Yuffie scoffed - and Riku couldn't help but be impressed by her impassioned stance on the issue, given her relative age and all. "To be honest, Squall, that's a really archaic stance, don't you think? Xehanort shattered however-many-jillion years of 'precedent' when he went cuckoo. The moment we arrived in Traverse To-"

_"__My name is Leon."_

A pause. Yuffie looked to her wrist (a watch), then looked back up at Leon. Another pause. The kunoichi blinked rapidly, impressed. "Wow. You actually lasted a full fifteen seconds there."

He grunted in response, though his lips were also twitching despite his stern tone. "I was _just_ restating our policy, Yuffie, that's what _amendments_ are for. Now, out of curiosity..." mulled Leon, leaning back into his headboard, "How many men does your king command?"

"Before the beginning of his reign, King Stannis held the position of Master of Ships on his brother Robert's small council. That, coupled with his former title of Lord of the Isle of Dragonstone, lends His Grace considerable might at sea: as we speak, a fleet of 200 vessels strong has set sail for the Blackwater Rush, from which His Grace shall launch an amphibious assault on King's Landing, which by our estimates maintains a garrison of some... 7,000?" Lord Alester resumed tugging his beard thoughtfully. _That looks like fun._ "On land are 21,000 sword and lance sworn to His Grace." He returned a determined gaze back to Even. "As I said, the boy '_king'_ is of no consequence to this Committee. It is the forces _beyond_ the capital that is of concern to both His Grace and, thusly, to the Realm of Light."

"You mentioned other kings," Leon said, trying to keep count, "Let's see... There was Renly, and you say this... _Joffrey's_ bound for the chopping block? What about the other two? Wouldn't it make sense to try to find common cause with them to fight the Heartless?"

The Old Fox's eyes grew cold then. "Robb Stark and Balon Greyjoy. The _'King of the Isles'_ and the '_King in the North.'_ They seek to carve away half of the Realm from His Grace for themselves. Make no mistake..." He gave a significant look to the red priestess standing to the side of the Hall and continued, "It is _Stannis_ who has appeared in the flames, whom the Lord has given command of his hosts, not the Starks, nor the Greyjoys. They have made the Realm bleed. His Grace will not forget, nor forgive: they are _traitors_, and will be dealt with _appropriately-"_ he broke off then, sweeping his gaze about the Great Hall, challengingly. "The punishment for treason _is_ death, is it not?"

Rikue almost burst out laughing: To their credit, Ansem's former apprentices had the grace to look ashamed (or at least pensive). "That _is_ correct," said Ienzo cautiously, "but the Darkness is a greater threat than any territorial or dynastic disputes. It threatens the security of your entire world, seems to me. We can't just go around, world after world, picking and supplanting the local rulers-"

"Local _pretenders-!"_ Lord Florent cried indignantly.

"While we're on the _subject_ of making common cause," Aerith mused, "What long-term purpose is there in supplanting this Joffrey? I don't see how allying Radiant Garden with any one faction will be very productive. Send messengers to your King and to these others, and invite them here - I'm sure we can find some method to countera-"

"Believe me, my lady, if there were an easy answer to this conflict, I would have pursued it - and had far more success before now. The boy... _Joffrey,"_ explained the King's Hand wearily, "Is a _bastard._ His Grace's brother, Robert (First of His Name) left no trueborn issue of his body. Joffrey 'Baratheon' is born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother, Ser Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer. I speak _explicitly_ for the _King_ in this matter: will not treat with such _vermin."_

The "i" word elicited a visceral reaction from the Wielder of Twilight and his younger companions: _EWWWGH. _

Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed on the Committee. Merlin the Magician joined Lord Florent in his furious beard-stroking competition and queried, "And... how do you know this Joffrey is... indeed, the product of incest?"

"His Grace has had his suspicions for some time. Whereas the boy and his sibling-parents are all blonde, ever scion of House Baratheon for the past millennia have been possessed of dark hair a-"

"I would like to remind the Committee that such details are... _Irrelevant."_ Even leered down at the southerner from his seat, his arm bent at the elbow and resting his chin in his hand contemplatively. "Even _with_ proof of these claims (and disregarding the near-_endless_ possibilities associated with genetic disparities), it is not for the Garden to enforce _your_ succession laws, to say nothing of your disparate secessionist movements -" He then swept his gaze to the remaining members of the Restoration Committee to his right and argued, "Do any of you even _realize_ the precedent this would set? Would we allow these 'Westerosi' word in our _own_ affairs? In how we are _governed?_ I think not."

"Seven Kingdoms stand at the edge of the abyss, and you would trust a manic child - the unlawful product of _incest_ - with their liberation? Or would you place your trust in a true king, battle-hardened and eyes nascent upon the sunset?"

"We have met _none_ of these pretenders, not even this _Stannis_ character; only _you_. Thus far, you have railed against the encroaching Dark, and yet your only solution is for us to become your hired hands! Interplanetary relations ought to be restricted to resistance to the Realm of Darkness, and no more than that!"

"That is _enough_ for now, Even," Leon finished wearily. "Lord Alester, we thank you both for your time and patience. As head of the Committee, I can pledge that the Garden is willing to ally with any who stand against the Darkness - but further discussion is required for this civil war of yours... we shall reconvene in several days to announce our decision. This meeting of the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee is _concluded."_

Lord Alester's jaw clenched defiantly, but he nodded his head and swept from the Grand Hall, his bannermen filing out silently behind him. Bringing up the rear was Melisandre of Asshai. Looking to the trio once again, she smiled and her eyes darted up to the balconies hanging above the Hall. Riku followed her gaze - and noticed an annoyingly familiar flash of red and black among the citizenry.

* * *

><p><em>Stone Mill, the Red Fork<br>The Riverlands, Westeros_

A great host was assembled on the shores of a reddish river, clogged with crimson silt and sediment - charging into the muck were heavily armored footmen bearing scarlet standards emblazoned with a golden lion, rearing in defiance. The murky river was wide and slow, looping and bending through the woodlands, yet it was dotted with tiny wooded islets and sandbars lurking just below the maroon surface: it was by traversing those chokepoints that the red host, apparently, had hoped to cross the ford. Even so, they were having a hard time of it - the west bank of the river was significantly higher than their eastern spearhead, so they not only had to cross the river but also fight up the beach. Despite those trials, however, they seemed to be making slow progress. Led by some giant of a man, clad in dark armor and a yellow tabard embroidered with black hounds, entire battalions of the reds surged across the shallow fords, entering the full firing range of hidden archers and scorpions positioned somewhere along the western woods.

Triumphantly, the human mountain made landfall onto the western bank, roaring with pride as his best soldiers fell into the river impaled by arrow and scorpion dart, some taking the hits in vital regions ensuring instant death (pierced eyes, punctured lungs, torn throats, etc.) Far more, however, we felled by hits to their extremities, and wallowing in the mud, would no doubt find themselves gifted with a slow end when the battle was done. Clambering up the bank, the great knight found a spacious clearing in the wood, occupied by a common mill and garrisoned by a sizeable number of rivermen arrayed behind a wall of spikes driven into the earth to halt their ascent. The slaughter began: on both sides, men were impaled or disemboweled, armor was rent, many relieved themselves in fear. Eventually, despite heavy losses, the tall knight won the crest. As his men filed in behind him, he was startled by a clarion call erupting from the forest. An assortment of cavalry emerged from the trees, men on strange deerlike creatures, many of whom bore their own standard: a silver trout one a field of blue and mud red waves. These were likely the locals, and they didn't seem ready to flee anytime soon: aiming their long lances at the invaders, they broke out into a trot, mud squelching with the effort.

Suddenly, shadows arced towards the charging rivermen, slamming into the queer mounts and bringing them to the ground, whinnying in distress, their large eyes rolling madly in their sockets. Their riders fared no better - falling from their saddles, they were either impaled upon their own lances or crushed beneath their steeds' bodies, impacting into the burgundy mud which decorated their whimsical banners. Darkness reigned: the amorphous figures fell upon their hapless victims, golden eyes gleaming with hunger as they swooped down from on high or erupted from the moist earth to feast upon the wounded. Some number of the lancers, however, had survived the fall, and a precious few had even remained in the saddle; but, when faced with the apocalyptic sight before them, they turned tail and fled back past the Stone Mill into the deep forest behind them. Seeing their cavalry leave the battlefield, the archers hidden within the forest valiantly turned their fire onto the dark creatures that had intercepted their reinforcements, to little effect.

The west was not the only afflicted area - from the east, the Darkness snapped at the red host, snatching the unwary from their ranks. On the eastern bank, a tall and imposing lord commanded the red host, slender and broad-shouldered, adorned in crimson armor engraved with intricate illustrations of golden lions, and a cloth-of-gold cloak fluttered behind his steed. He was only now approaching the end of a serious mid-life crisis by the looks of it: any thinning hair had been brutally shorn away, though he allowed a large outgrowth of golden mutton chops to compensate. Gifted with an unflinching gaze (giving the impression that he wouldn't hesitate to dunk a child in tar and set it alight to further his ambition), his pale emerald eyes were flecked with gold - taking in the collapse of the army on the western bank, puzzled, he quickly gathered his wits and signaled to one of his squires. Horns were sounded, producing out a haunting melody, and clergymen cried out as the high lord rallied his forces for one final push across the ford.

_And who are you,  
><em>_the proud lord said,  
><em>_that I must bow so low...?_

* * *

><p><em>I really, <em>really_ wanted to name this chapter, "What Does the Fox Say?" 'Cuz, you know. Florents. Foxes..._

_Wherein I attempt to answer the age old question, "Why no muddling?" I have been playing the first Kingdom Hearts lately, and I was more than a little confused by the concept (no, Aladdin can't come with us - but Genie? Oh sure, _he_ can! Seriously, of the two, who d'you think can keep a better secret?)_

_Practically any place in "The Known World" of Ice and Fire would be a good spawning place for the Heartless; but a battlefield seemed the most likely in Westeros, given the overarching _despair_ and all! *manic laughter*_


End file.
